Flicker
by Isumo 1489
Summary: A series of oneshot drabbles in relation to 'Forlorn' Various characters. Dark AU
1. Flicker

**Author's Notes: **Just a series of drabbles in direct relation to _Forlorn_ that formulated and will strictly remain a side project. Some are dark– may include perspective, but the majority of them tend to be random ideas that were spawned from our main story. Reviews are welcome.

Flicker

What am I searching for anyway? It isn't something like the conventional sort of acknowledgment people take for granted daily. I feel that any hope of an identity or legacy that I might have had, died along with my parents– nameless and desperate.

It became far more clear after that- when I had learned how to sleep in an apartment empty of all except for myself, and those cold, decaying shadows looming in the places where my family used to titter around and live life the way it should be lived– without the fear of death.

So now, I suppose, that may explain why I have no fear of death- but of the harsh penalties that accompany it, rather. I am an echo of something long gone– something that should have been wiped clean from the earth the moment their hearts stopped beating. I linger– but it's only a matter of time before the beat in my own chest is extinguished.

It may be simpler to say that you could understand, if only a margin, death's cruel intentions for those who remain alive. You may just barely recall a person you bumped into on the side of the road a month ago while returning home from work. Certainly the memory flickers around in your head if you try to resurface it. But like a passing beam of light, time erases them from the recesses of your mind with ease. In a few months the flicker is reduced to a bright dot, which then dies in a year's time. And what about after that? The person falls out from the history of the world, with no documents or personal accounts to justify their existence– or bring about some type of closure for something that may never have been there.

Death, in truth, is when a person's life disappears from the earth– when it is carelessly forgotten and brushed aside. This fate was the fate of my parents– the fate I share with them. And if I know I can in no way avoid this inescapable doom, helpless and defenseless against it– no matter how I strive to become memorable and highly regarded, I will remain the echo of some unknown memory long since destroyed by the ignorance of the fleeting, living world.

I am the last of the nameless family that never belonged– the final product of a meaningless effort. And until I ebb away, after moving up in ranks and living with a fervor that no other can ever fully understand, my desperation blazes like an uncontrolled fire while on the earth, the last writhing flame that shines on in the memories of two Anbu who struggled to find a way to assimilate into Leaf without being obliterated– and failed.

Die nameless, perhaps, but live if you can. Find what is living, as I have, and find Fate is not at all some kind of divine plan, but and _ends_ to a means, a means that is the burning fire that dies in all of us– unrecorded. While the struggles of many are listed as historical complaints, my toils are the fruits of truth, where the struggle and sacrifice receive the ultimate just reward–

darkness.

I was once called Tenten while I flickered on the earth.

**A/N: **Some allusions to Neji and Lee, I think, if you squint. Tenten's past isn't something brought up often– and there may be good reason as to why.


	2. Snow

**Author's Notes: **Turns out that many of the blirbs in this compilation are about characters of interest that aren't elaborated on much in the canon– or in general, really. Meet Zabuza– crazy as hell, yet one of the most fascinating of killers.

Snow

Typically, open-air bars didn't bode well in areas of bitter cold climate, but Hidden Mist was an exception to the idea. Even a nukenin needed to unwind every now and then.

'_If I ever see Raiga again, I'll kill him,' _Zabuza reasoned, eyeing the last of the shochu in his glass suspiciously, _'He fucked up the whole mission...'_

Unofficially, the Seven Shinobi Swordsman of the Mist had disbanded. Their bold attempt to assassinate the Mizukage and bring about a new order for the crippled village failed thanks to a slip up by one member, an anonymous tip to the Anbu, and the immediate death of two of the seven.

They had scattered when the whole endeavor became futile– a few swords dropping uselessly to the ground leaving the old bat Mizukage still very much alive.

That was fourteen hours ago, Zabuza admitted, and he was as far away as one could get from the scene of the coup. And he hadn't left his zanbato behind like some of the other pussies had either.

The bartender was hunched over fiddling with a radio, not very much interested in the one customer that was seated nearby silently at such an ungodly hour of the morning. He wasn't one to question the habits of a ninja– nukenin or not.

He hadn't yet decided what his next course of action would be– the alcohol hadn't burned its way deep enough into his brain yet, but he was fairly sure he was going to find a less complicated means of overthrowing the Yondaime...eventually.

'_It's empty...' _Zabuza tipped the last of the shochu into his glass from the bottle that the bartender had left behind for him. It was one of the rare times he would show his face in public, although common people weren't likely to recognize him anyway.

He sipped slowly, ignoring the bartender's annoyed rambling after the static died out and the wretched contraption died once again. Briefly he ventured to the back, to see if there were any batteries left.

It was almost comical how a fat man sat down next to him at the bar, looking exhausted, but remarkably cordial for such an early hour. Zabuza focused on the burning earthy flavor running down his throat, considering he still had some time before the Anbu had enough sense to fan out over the villages neighboring Mist in search of their targets.

'_If I were still in the Black Ops, they wouldn't all be total morons like they are today...' _he snorted mentally, appalled by how the Anbu of Mist had grown horrifically weaker over recent years without him as a captain.

The bartender returned to the front and began fiddling with his radio again. The fat man waved him over, smiling weakly, "Just some tea before I set off for my rounds, please– I'll be starting early today."

"Anything else old man?" the bartender scratched his stubbled cheek, trying to stay awake.

"No thank you."

The irritated bartender stumbled over to a kettle left out, steam still visibly rising in the chilled air. Predictably polite, the overweight merchant turned to his fellow early-bird customer, "You're a shinobi aren't you?"

'_Is this guy out of his fucking mind?' _In his peripheral, Zabuza observed with blurry vision the fat man next to him who hadn't a clue in the world who he was talking to.

In response to the newcomer's question, the nukenin downed the last of his shochu with one, brazen gulp. The merchant quieted for a moment, deliberating what the gesture had meant. After a moment he spoke again, "I see...you must have just finished with one of your missions..."

'_I'm a magnet for idiots.' _Zabuza decided, slamming his glass down quite loudly, _'This guy can't take a hint– he's asking for it...' _Head swimming, he made a half-hearted attempt to reach for the zanbato slung on his back, and his hand dropped uselessly to his side, _'Damnitt.'_

Oblivious to the fact that the ninja he was speaking to had momentarily intended to kill him, which may have been his first idea even without a buzz, the merchant kept up his friendly small-talk, "Should I buy you another round then? It's been a long time since I last encountered a shinobi."

It was a tempting offer. He had spent the last of his money in order to drink away his woes over the failed coup– why not take advantage of the fat idiot?

Zabuza nodded, and the merchant called the bartender over again, who had set his tea down in front of him. Frowning inwardly, the bartender went back to fetch some cheap sake, wondering what the new customer could possibly be thinking.

"Is there any chance that you may have some wild tales you'd share with me about any of your recent missions, eh?" the merchant seemed interested in what he had to say, and Zabuza, of course, had nothing to say.

"No."

The merchant raised his eyebrows– he hadn't even been expecting a vocal answer.

Zabuza wasn't a story teller. The closest thing that came to it was his ability to reenact his escapades by beheading his audience, and at the moment, it was hard to find the will to even recap what had transpired the day before anyway.

The bartender placed a small bottle of sake in front of Zabuza and then gave a skeptical glance to the merchant before going back to tamper with his ill-fated radio. The nukenin tipped some of the bottle's contents into his glass, trying to pay the pesky merchant's chatter no mind.

The fat man took a sip of tea thoughtfully, "Hm...I don't suppose you've ever come across a man named Taneda in your travels then?"

"Never heard of him." Zabuza felt his head give a jolt after a frozen breeze swept through the bar– reawakening his senses briefly. The sake was making it much easier for him to talk, surprisingly.

"I thought so..." the merchant sighed, frowning slightly, "He was a Mist nin like you...he saved my life many years ago, but I haven't seen him since."

Something white landed on his hand, and Zabuza regarded the small fleck of snow curiously for a moment before he was able to surmise the sudden change in weather.

Also noting the development, the merchant turned his gaze skyward, "Looks like the first snowfall of the season has arrived...but it's strange, the sky was clear a few minutes ago– I'm sure of it..."

There was something about the eerie snow shower that had silently snuck up on the sleepy village that motivated Zabuza to move on. Chances were good that the Anbu were moving swiftly, and staying put was the worst decision he could make.

Without finishing his sake, Zabuza stood slowly, watching the soundless ice crystals that descended down from the sky. It would be wise to get going.

He didn't bother thanking or paying for his drinks once he had left, stalking down the empty road as silent as the falling snow. The merchant finished his tea quietly, finding the odd character he had met just as interesting as he was mysterious.

Once the nukenin was out of sight, the bartender approached his remaining customer– amused, "You've got guts talking to a nukenin like that– they aren't very people-friendly..."

"Nukenin?" the merchant frowned, "Oh my..."

The bartender smirked, "I thought he was going to kill you at one point, you're lucky he had a lot to drink old man."

"Kill me? Why on earth would he want to?" the fat man was troubled, gripping his tea cup with peculiar anxiety, "I didn't do a thing to bother him, I don't think..."

The bartender shook his head, "Exactly. You don't have to do _anything_ to get one of them to gut you. That was Momochi Zabuza– Demon of the Hidden Mist, he frequents these parts you know."

There was a long, awkward pause between the two in which the merchant thought he had misheard, "...you know him?"

"Sure I do, he's one of my more...consistent customers," the bartender's smirk widened, "I get off easy so long as they get their drinks. I serve civilians as often as I do missing-nin."

"Then I'd say it's quite terrifying that you can be taken in the line of duty with even your job..." the merchant muttered, horrified, and he finished the last if his tea grateful to be alive after making such a foolish mistake, "I'm not from around here as you can see– I didn't even think about running into a nukenin."

"You're fortunate, it looked like he had been roughed up a bit," the bartender took the empty cup from him, "Next time you'll learn to step lightly around the locals."

"Thank you, sir." the fat man paid the bartender a bit more than what was necessary before leaving, suspecting that somehow, the snow had played a part in his life being spared.

**A/N: **Small insight into Zabuza's time with the Seven. I doubt that they were all buddy-buddy either, judging that the whole coup got blown to shit.


	3. Yondaime

**Author's Notes: **It's a pity there's so much that isn't known about the Fourth Hokage.

Yondaime

"Yes, Jiraiya-sensei, I spoke with Hokage-sama this morning," the blonde man paused, "And for once...he agrees with you."

"I don't feel like playing the 'I told you so' game with you Arashi, but– I told you so." Jiraiya readjusted his telescope while he spoke to his student, "You've made jounnin– you're more than ready for students of your own."

Arashi scratched his head quizzically as he settled himself on the ledge of the building beside his mentor. Unbeknownst to the women on the street below, Jiraiya was about to take notes on the female form for the fifth time that day.

"Maybe I'll start next year, and get some training of my own done first..." Arashi speculated, still hesitant on the idea of students, "I'm sure some extra time wouldn't hurt."

"Yep, that's what Orochimaru said too– and look how that turned out," Jiraiya snorted, zeroing in on an unsuspecting waitress at the restaurant across the street, "He never got around to training up any students...that I've met, anyway..."

"Hm...well, that is a valid point I suppose..."

"Valid? Feh! You've been talking to Jomei too much if you ask me," the white haired man cackled while he scratched his pencil down on his notepad, "She's poisoning your mind with her rebellious thoughts."

"That's not a very nice thing to say about your own student," Arashi frowned, not liking Jiraiya's view of the kunoichi of their team, "She doesn't care either way if I train gennin."

"How very odd..." his teacher muttered in response, finding it difficult to believe, "She's too much like Tsunade...it's creepy."

"Well, most women would be that way after meeting you sensei!" Arashi grinned widely and ducked when a loose brick was tossed at his head.

"Shaddepp ya squirt!" Jiraiya ruffled his white hair like an agitated cat, "It's women like that who cause misery for my business! Besides, it's hard work everyday to get my research done..."

The golden haired jounnin smiled, "You're terrible."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I did go to meet some of the Academy students that were recommended," Arashi admitted, "They were impressive actually– I swear they're getting stronger every year."

"Heh heh! It's a passing trend, in a few years they'll all be slackers again, you'll see." Jiraiya chortled.

"No really, sensei. A Hatake and an Uchiha on the same team– it was interesting," Arashi delighted in the way his teacher's attention was so easily ripped away from his 'research', "I may look into it if you want me to..."

"Then by all means do," the perverted sage drew out his pipe and lit it, smirking, "Whip those brats into shape– or even better! Get Jomei to do it."

The blonde man raised his eyebrows, "You know she'll run them ragged..."

"Exactly!" Jiraiya nodded in amusement, "It's all about discipline I've been telling you, Arashi. That's why I've been telling her to get started ever since she became a jounnin– she can do it. You can too if you stop working so hard all the time."

"I like working hard," Arashi laid back on the ledge, folding his arms contentedly beneath his head, "And you know she doesn't want to teach yet, and she isn't likely to change her mind about that either."

"She will if you buy her ramen."

"That's totally unfair, sensei."

"Feh!" Jiraiya took another drag and glanced back at his telescope, "It's perfectly fair you squirt, after all, you're the only person that she listens to ever since–"

"I know." Arashi didn't want to speak about the recent death of their beloved teammate whose mission had somehow taken a turn for the worst the year before.

Upset by the memory, the young jounnin sat up again, inhaling the warm summer air. His chest suddenly felt uncomfortably tight at the thought of his best friend's demise, making him question himself on becoming the leader of another team, _'If I let Isamu die, how can I be expected to be responsible for the lives of gennin?'_

"Go then and talk to Hokage-sama about training those brats now– believe me you'll enjoy it," Jiraiya began to pack up his telescope, "I know I had fun with you three squirts, and I still do. And anyway...I feel like moving on to a better location now...all the cute girls went missing around here..."

Arashi sighed, "I just..."

"Let it go. You shouldn't let what happened in the past to dictate your abilities as a shinobi," Jiraiya could tell his thoughts dwelled on his old teammate, "Isamu wouldn't want you to give up– he'd want you to move forward and protect the village with everything that you are, and believe me when I say..." he grinned, "You are a ninja worthy of becoming Hokage."

"...you're crazy."

"I mean it you squirt!" the toad sage hefted the telescope over his shoulder, "The village is in desperate need for great shinobi like you– so you should do something about it."

The blonde nin stood, brushing a spot off of his vest, "I will, sensei. For Isamu...for all of Konoha."

"Good." Jiraiya patted his shoulder, "I'm off now. Tell Jomei she should reconsider not training any gennin."

"I'll do my best."

"Which means you'll succeed then." the white haired shinobi grinned maniacally and then departed, infinitely proud of his students' accomplishments– living or not.

Arashi folded his arms and smiled inwardly, sensing great things in his future, "Thank you, sensei..."

**A/N: **Tried to portray a friendly relationship between student and mentor– Jiraiya is awesome, even if he is a nutty super-pervert.


	4. Gai's Story

**Author's Notes: **Gai is a terribly unexplored character, and has more in common with Kakashi than most may believe. A bit if insight on the origins of the Springtime of Youth and Gai's view of his students…

Gai's Story

"But Gai-sensei, if you would allow me to remove my weights, I know I would be a match for Neji during training!" Lee had been trying to convince his teacher for the past few days to allow him less restraint, but Gai would not yield.

"No Lee, there is only one time you will ever be permitted to discard your legs weights or utilize your chakra gates," Gai folded his arms and a far-off look came over his face.

"When is that, sensei?" Lee's eyes were wide and expectant.

"If either Neji of Tenten's lives are in danger, that is the appropriate time to use your full ability." Gai continued, watching as his protégée's expression wilted slightly.

"Gai-sensei, I doubt that they will ever find themselves in such peril…" he looked frustrated, but he understood.

"And be glad for that Lee," Gai warned, his voice suddenly stern, "If ever you were to lose them…that is a pain I hope you will never know."

Lee nodded, taking the words to heart.

"Now do five-hundred sit-ups!" Gai commanded and Lee rushed off to a vacant spot in their training field, ready to get to work.

Across the way, Gai could see Tenten hurling wave upon wave of potentially lethal weapons at Neji— testing his defenses.

His eyes narrowed sadly. Seeing them train so hard, striving for their dreams, only made his heart ache from the memories he had when he had been their age. Even if they accepted Gai's tough-love ethics and unbreakable determination, he felt his students could never really understand the reason why he was the way he was.

They had a different team dynamic than that of his own gennin team.

Neji viewed Lee as little more than a nuisance, and at most, a subordinate. Lee saw Neji as a rival who he aspired do defeat one day in a glorious contest of skill. Tenten remained the intermediary between the two, keeping the balance. She trained with Neji tirelessly every day, and she strove to encourage Lee as his friend.

She also never failed to critique her teammates on their form, but Gai suspected she was under more pressure than she let on being in the center of an enduring tug-of-war between the Hyuga Prodigy and the Green Beast of Konoha.

Things had never been like that on his team. His team had a natural balance— there had never been competition between them.

He recalled things being so calm with his team, that he had to search elsewhere for a challenging rival. After meeting Kakashi, the rest was history. But Gai remembered it had been long ago and yet in the blink of an eye when he had first met his teammates.

Haru, the kunoichi of their squad, was a beautiful, talented ninja with hair red as flame. He had adored her, worshipped her, yet she had always seemed fonder of their teammate than of he. He relented in his pursuit of her when he had still been a gennin, not wanting to encroach upon her feelings.

His other teammate, and closest friend was a boy named Sukei. He had been a frail shinobi, but had remarkable skill in genjutsu that made Yuuhi Kurenai look like a complete novice.

Gai watched Neji and Tenten dance in a mass of jyukken and flying kunai. There he could see himself and Haru training, but in place of the criticism Neji and Tenten offered each other, he remembered laughter and praise. Times had changes so much.

After he and his teammates had become Chunnin, Gai recalled vividly how Haru had trained endlessly to be a respectable Medic-nin, and how when he hadn't been challenging Kakashi— he spent most of his days training with Sukei.

He had been young then. He had been naïve. Their first B-rank mission together marked the end of their ignorance.

Gai watched as Lee neared 110 sit-ups and he closed his eyes restlessly.

Haru and their sensei had been separated from them during the ambush. At the time, it had still been during the height of the Great Shinobi War. The Rock ninja had stabbed Sukei once in the shoulder and then a second time in the stomach. Gai killed the Iwa nin with his bare hands, furious and terrified all at once.

There hadn't been time to look for Haru or his sensei— they had been on the other side of the valley at the time. He knew a town that was only a few miles South from where they were, and he ran with Sukei over his shoulder, faster than he had ever moved in his entire life.

"Gai, I'm fine, really," Sukei had been putting pressure on his wounds on the way there, "I'm going to be okay."

"Those blades were poisoned— I don't know what it's going to do to you," he had to keep reminding his friend, "Now please, stop talking."

Gai's countenance turned downward at the memory. He could hear his friend's voice now as clearly as he had then.

Nearly an hour of frantic running had passed and Gai was still following the mountain trail South. By then, Sukei was disoriented and hallucinating.

"It really_ is _bright out here, Gai— it isn't nighttime," his voice was eerily cheerful, "I know you're hungry, but I ran out of food two days ago…I'm sorry…"

Gai did his best to ignore him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…please forgive me…" Sukei began sobbing uncontrollably, "Gai I know you love her…but I love her _too_…I'm sorry…take care of her will you? I…please…I don't want Haru-chan to be all alone…"

"…I forgive you." How he had wished Sukei would be quiet.

Less than an hour later the village was in sight, and he had stumbled in exhaustion, dropping Sukei to the unforgiving ground.

Gai was on his knees— in hysterics.

"Come on! We're _here_!" Gai pulled Sukei's helpless form back over his shoulder, "If we're not in that village within five minutes, I swear I will do 100,000 pushups! I swear it on my life, Sukei!"

He trudged painfully along the gravel road, and Sukei's feverish rambling had decreased somewhat. They passed through the gate at long last, and Sukei was smiling, "I'm going to be alright, Gai…you saved me…"

"I know, now just rest—"

"Listen! I **know**! I've seen you fight like a _beast_!" Sukei declared, grinning broadly, "That's what you are, see? A _green_ beast! The beautiful green beast of Konoha!"

Gai started laughing at the preposterous thought, "You really think so?"

Sukei stopped talking and had gone frighteningly limp after that, and Gai was afraid. It was night, by then. Few houses had light in their windows, and he lowered Sukei gently down on a lawn before rushing to the nearest door, banging on it in blind panic.

His mind was failing him. Gai was losing focus. Yet he had to wake someone. _Anyone. _Anyone who would know a physician of some sort. He was losing Sukei. Every second wasted held unfathomable value.

"GAI!" Sukei was screaming from his spot in the grass and Gai hurried back to him, terrified.

No one was around.

"It's like fire Gai— fire that's in me, burning," Sukei was out of breath, panting heavily, "Don't rush it, okay? You're…you're fine."

"I don't have any medicine for you," Gai tipped the last of the water in his canteen into his friend's mouth, "Just hang on— stay awake. We'll find someone."

He wished that Haru was with him— she'd have known what to do. And she loved Sukei— that alone would have saved his life.

"I'm sorry, Gai," Sukei seemed lucid for a moment, "You're my friend. I'm glad."

He nodded dumbly. He was exhausted, and he doubted he'd be able to walk anymore. It was difficult just to keep his eyes open.

"It's springtime, you know," Sukei said quietly, "Be glad."

"I am!" Gai hollered, it was a battle with himself just to stay awake.

Sukei grinned up at him. He looked like he was saying something but Gai could not hear him.

It was silent then.

"Sukei." It hurt to say his name. Blood had soaked through the boy's vest. He was dead, and he probably hadn't even realized he'd been dying.

"I am glad." Gai repeated.

He blacked out beside his departed teammate, just as a light in the house switched on and people were shuffling about.

* * *

Two days later he woke up screaming. Haru and his sensei had tracked him into the lone mountain town and told him that there was nothing he could have done for Sukei, and that they were deeply sorry that they had not found them sooner.

Once back in Konoha, a week later, he was still overcome with grief. Gai visited the memorial stone only once, and in front of it— where Sukei's name had been newly added, he kept his word and proceeded to do 100,000 pushups. It had taken him over four days to finish, but he had succeeded. He could tell that Sukei had seen him do it too.

"I _am_ glad. I am the beautiful green beast of Konoha." Gai reminded himself, unable to fight back a smile at his friend's proclamation. He never returned to the memorial stone, not even after his sensei had died.

Gai promised himself that his Will of Fire would prevail above all other things. He was determined to bring to inspire other ninja and bring out the best in them— as Sukei had done for him. He refused to dwell on his friend's memory in sorrow— as Kakashi did.

Instead, he wished to celebrate and honor his teammate's life.

Gai opened his eyes and continued to watch his students train, "It is springtime, and I am glad."

* * *

**A/N: **Gai is an enigma. But a youthful enigma. 


End file.
